


f*cked up fantasy

by CosmicallyLyss



Series: Riverdale Poetry [2]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: #joavinistoxic, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, THIS IS A POEM, he is talking about how much of an abusive fRICK joaquin was to him, i cried with happiness when that happened, i originally posted this on amino months ago, idk why i'm using joavin as the tag, it's from kevin's pov, joaquin is finally dead, kevin deserves better, lapslock intended, these tags are a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-30 00:10:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17213459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicallyLyss/pseuds/CosmicallyLyss
Summary: "i should have known he was a drug.enticing, intoxicating, addictive.making me feel high as a cloud,but slowly killing me with no remorse."a first-person poem of kevin reflecting on how much joaquin truly hurt him





	f*cked up fantasy

**Author's Note:**

> alrighty just a warning there's strong language in here, and this also probs isn't a zone for joavin shippers,, 'cause like,, that abuse and toxicity isn't tolerated in my house.
> 
> anyone that reads, I hope you enjoy!

he made me believe i could love him.

i fell so deep into his ice blue eyes

that i drowned in them.

he made me believe i was loved.

that he truly cared about me,

when all i was to him was  a

way to save himself.

i lived in a fucked up fantasy.

i lost so much from these few weeks.

money,

pride,

happiness,

even individuality.

people always have a "not me" mentality.

we believe we're invincible.

immune to heartbreak.

immune to abuse.

we think we can't be hurt

but that stops when the

damage is already done.

it's always said that

hindsight is always 20-20.

crystal clear.

lucid and pure.

i should have known he was a drug.

enticing, intoxicating, addictive.

making me feel high as a cloud,

but slowly killing me with no remorse.

i should have known he was a leech.

biting, stealing, vindictive.

sucking all the life out of me,

until i was a shell of my former self.

i was used and abused and left out for dead.

because of a faked love,

a fucked up fantasy inside my head.

i hurt for hours and days and weeks,

an inconsolable wreck.

i shut myself off, shut myself down.

because if i wasn't involved in reality,

it couldn't hurt me.

still, i remain skeptical.

paranoid.

still, i believe i'm not meant for love.

because when a person treats you

worse  than the dirt on the bottom of his shoe,

it's almost impossible to regain faith in love.

fantasy.

the activity of imagining the impossible.

he was my fantasy;  love was my fantasy.

my tragically,  pathetically

fucked up fantasy.

as hard as i try,

i can't escape from the memories.

the pieces of shrapnel from

our explosion

are still embedded in my skin.

i've given up on crying.

i've stopped mourning.

i'll never fully recover,

but i can begin to move on.

those icy pools of arctic blue

are always going to haunt me

and remind me why i feel unloved.

but i can try to forget.

the healing process

is long,

far from over,

and difficult to surmount.

but i'll get through this,

and i'll do it alone.

shut off and shut down.

i won't let him hurt me anymore.

after all, he's just a

fucked up fantasy.

**Author's Note:**

> ayyyyy y'all have survived my hatred of joaquin/joavin in poem form!!
> 
> i hope you liked this! Feedback is always appreciated!


End file.
